


And my heart beats love, love, love

by redsnake05



Category: Bandom, The Cab
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnson and Singer fit together in different ways. Here are five of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And my heart beats love, love, love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colouredmango](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=colouredmango).



**Sweetheart**

Singer is not a morning person. He scowls and stumbles and yawns all over the place, hating his life and melting face-first into the table until he metabolises some sugar. It's a bad idea to let one's lead singer get hurt, so it's understandable that Johnson steadies him as he nearly falls in the kitchen. Johnson wraps his hand around Singer's arm and Singer kind of sprawls on his chest and blinks. It's his only sign of life. He kind of loves Johnson at this moment, steady and certain under Singer's weight. He hears the puff of laughter Johnson makes, but the kiss Johnson presses to the top of his head is nice.

"Let's get you to the table in one piece, hmm, sweetheart?" he says, and Singer lets Johnson move him round and ease him down into a chair. When Johnson brings him back a glass of chocolate milk, Singer takes a long gulp and wraps the fingers of his free hand around Johnson's wrist. Johnson smiles as he looks down at him and Singer tugs on him until he leans forward obligingly for a kiss.

"You taste sugary," says Johnson. Singer smiles and finishes his milk. He's awake enough to watch the smile on Johnson's face tucked small and secretive into the corners of his mouth.

"That's why you call me sweet," Singer says.

"That too," says Johnson and leans forward again to kiss him until they hear Cash shouting from the front door that it's time to leave. Singer likes to wake up like this.

**Honey**

Cash doesn't want to think about what Johnson and Singer get up to. He just likes to carpool to the rehearsal space. It saves the environment and all that. So, as far as he's concerned, Johnson's use of 'honey' is purely sarcastic. He also ignores the way Johnson's hand settles on Singer's back and the way Singer is beaming indiscriminantly instead of complaining about the sunshine like he usually does. Whatever. Kid's his best friend, and if he wants to be called 'honey' - in a purely sarcastic way! - then that's his business. He turns up the music instead and concentrates on driving.

**Kitten**

Marshall has always been a little bit in love with his band. Except maybe Cash, because, well, Cash is an idiot. But he loves what they all make together. Whether they're playing to a crowd or just rehearsing, the way they fit makes Marshall break out in goosebumps sometimes. Despite being in love with his band, though, it's never been a sexual thing. It's the pure joy of the music, the connection and the charge of playing with these dudes.

He's known about Singer and Johnson for a while, reading their growing closeness in the shape of Johnson's fingers over Singers as they hand off cups and equipment, or the mirroring of their smiles and stance. Marshall is happy for them. Just sometimes, when the sexual attraction crackles between them, he shifts uncomfortably because it reminds him that maybe there is a little bit of sex mixed in there somewhere in his love for the band. He shakes his head as everyone puts down their equipment and scatters, standing and stretching out the kinks in his neck and shoulders. It doesn't matter, really. He straightens and heads for the little kitchen. A drink will clear his head.

"Leave it, kitten," says Johnson, and Marshall stops dead, taking a moment to realise that Johnson is not talking to him. "Not everything has to be perfect."

Marshall can almost imagine the way Singer is probably pouting, with his hands on his hips and fidgeting feet. He wonders if Johnson has his mocking look on, or if he's looking tender, like he sometimes does. He peeks round the corner and it's not a fairytale. Johnson just looks vaguely annoyed and Singer drooping with sulkiness. It reminds Marshall that they've been friends for a long time, and that the gradual move to being lovers has not changed the essential facts of their relationship. Singer pouts, Johnson looks annoyed, they both get over it, and the only change is that they fuck sometimes. Then Johnson puts down his drink and grabs Singer and shakes him gently by the back of his neck, and Marshall loses his balance and trips over his own feet. When he looks up again, the moment has passed. Johnson tosses him a soda and Singer smiles brightly at him, sulks forgotten.

**Baby**

Ian loves to go outside and look at the sunset at the end of the day. He's already packed his stuff away and is just waiting for the others. Cash always takes forever to pack his bag and make sure he hasn't forgotten anything. Ian snorts and looks at the sky. People call _him_ a stoner. He's standing just around from the door, enjoying the light. It's peaceful. He doesn't move when he hears the door bang open, hoping that he can enjoy a few more moments of quiet. He hears Singer's giggle and Johnson's low reply and smiles a little.

"Hey," said Singer, and his voice is warm and fond, and Ian wonders for a moment if they've seen him. Then he hears the sound of kissing, slow and deliberate. He looks up at the sky again and debates making some noise so that they know he's there. They are pretty discreet; this is the closest they've come to being caught by him, for all the long, careful months they've been easing themselves into this relationship.

"What's all this for?" asks Johnson. Ian can barely hear his words, and he's still smiling as he strains to catch them. This is the sort of thing that his gleeful inner romantic loves, no matter how hard he tries to deny it. Johnson and Singer aren't just fooling round, like Cash thinks, and they're not just the same as before but with sex, like Marshall thinks. This is different.

"Just wanted to kiss you," says Singer.

"I like that," said Johnson. "You want to kiss me again, baby?" His voice is low and intimate and Ian can just imagine how embarrassed and full of rage he'd be if he knew Ian could hear all this. The sound of kissing starts again and Ian looks up at the sky and thinks about the day ending and the long hours of darkness to come. But there will be a new day, and new chords to play, and maybe Ian won't have this bittersweet pleasure tomorrow.

**Love**

Johnson can hear Singer humming to himself in the bathroom as he comes down the hallway. It's a nothing sound, but Johnson knows that it means that Singer is happy, that he thinks they did okay today and that they'll do okay tomorrow. He knows that there was a time when he couldn't have picked the difference between this and the hum Singer makes when he's sad or tired or hurting, but he can't remember what it was like.

"You nearly done?" he calls. "Your feet are going to get cold and then you'll put them on me and then we'll both be unhappy."

"Not if I put them on you while I sucking your cock," says Singer. Johnson laughs, because Singer nearly is that bendy, and also he doesn't really mind Singer's cold feet if he also gets to get his hands on Singer's nice ass. Stripping off his clothes, he thinks about Singer and what he'd like to do with him and doesn't hear Singer until he's right behind him.

"I see that prospect was appealing," Singer said, hand sliding down Johnson's belly to loosely circle his cock, sliding dry and light over it. It's easy and Johnson smiles.

"Get into bed, love," said Johnson. "I'll show you appealing."

He doesn't have to look to know that Singer's face has lit up with pleasure. Johnson knows what Singer needs, with words and reassurance, and he knows it's worth it. It feels good to look after Singer, better than he could ever have imagined it would. Singer fits places inside him that he never knew were empty. He turns and pulls Singer into his arms, hands sliding down his back to cup his ass, just like he was thinking of before. He kisses Singer, feeling him open up and kiss back. His blood starts to hum along in time to the tuneless rhythm Singer had been following in the bathroom earlier, and each beat of his heart says _love, love, love_.


End file.
